John's not fat, he's plush
by Acciolov3137
Summary: "John is NOT fat, Mycroft! He's ... plush, like a teddy bear." "Plush!" "Yes, plush! John's plush, he's the cuddly type." "Is that what you're busy doing?"
1. Chapter 1

John shifted the bags in his arms as he climbed the stairs in 221B. As he neared the door he could make out the voices of the two Holmes brothers.

"I'm too busy for your petty affairs!"

"Busy doing what? If you weren't running around London, dragging that fat blogger around with you-!"

"John is NOT fat, Mycroft! He's ... plush, like a teddy bear."

"Plush?!"

"Yes, plush! John's plush, he's the cuddly type."

"Is _that_ what you're busy doing?"

"Oh we both know you'd know if we were. You've got the whole flat bugged."

"Exactly. I know you're not busy!"

"Well, I will be."

"Doing what?"

"Well, when John gets home we're going to... cuddle."

"Lying is beneath you, brother."

"Check the cameras then! We're going to cuddle. Just wait and watch. Good night Mycroft."

The door swung open and Mycroft swept out of the room and down the stairs without noticing John.

"So I'm _plush_ am I?"

Sherlock actually jumped as John entered the flat.

"Oh, are you finally back? How much of that drivel did you hear?"

"Everything from, "I'm too busy for your petty affairs.""

"Oh."

"So not only am I _plush_, but you and I are going to _cuddle?"_

"Well for once I wasn't thinking and I said the first thing that came to mind."

John's eyebrows raised and he put the groceries away.

"Us cuddling was the first thing that came to mind? Think about it often, do you?" John was only teasing, so he was surprised when Sherlock caught his eye and murmured, "It crosses my mind from time to time."

John nearly dropped the carton of eggs he'd been holding so he quickly put them in the designated food only section of the refrigerator.

"How often is 'time to time'?"

"Oh fine, the conversation you've been waiting for."

John felt his stomach flip but forced his feelings aside.

"The thought of us _cuddling_ crosses my mind on average six times a day."

Despite the fact that Sherlock said it as if he were describing the results of an experiment his answer had come as a total shock.

"**SIX?!** You think about us cuddling **six** times a day?"

"On average."

"**Six** times?"

"Yes, John. During an average day when you wake up and lounge on the couch watching the news I want to cuddle with you and whisper into your ear everything the news gets wrong. Approximately an hour later, as you're leaving for work that cuddling crosses my mind again. I want to pull you back to me and make you forget about work. You're only at work fourteen minutes before I'm bored and missing you and I regret not cuddling with you. So then I'm thinking about it again. That's three times. Sick of impending boredom I take a cab to St. Bart's and help Molly in the mortuary. While I inspect the bodies Molly finds somewhere to slip in her, "bad day, was it" joke, which now includes the tag line "does someone need a hug?" And I say, "Of course not, no one **needs** a hug." But then I think that I really want a hug, a John hug. The thought of anyone else hugging me is revolting but if you were to hug me I'd hug back. I'd even prolong the experience. Her awful joke has me eager for home and I usually arrive a half hour before you do. You're always freezing when you get home. Your cheeks and ears are pink, your lip trembles, and your hands shake, and I just want to hold you until you stop shaking, longer actually. But instead you light the fire, put another sweater on, and make tea. And when you go to bed I stay up and wonder if I'd sleep better with you in my arms. That's six, I believe.

"Uh yeah that was six. You mean all that?"

"Do I ever say anything I don't mean?"

"No, no you don't. I- wha- we-I'm...going to bed I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight Sherlock."

John fled to his room to process what Sherlock had said. Sherlock's confession was hardly platonic but Sherlock didn't do _sentiment._ John shed his clothes and crawled under the covers.

And just like every night he wished Sherlock was underneath the covers with him.

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**It gets better I promise. Fluffy JOHNLOCK coming up. R&R.**


	2. Chapter 2

When John woke up he stretched and made his way downstairs. He wasn't surprised at all to see Sherlock at the table hunched over a microscope.

"Morning." He yawned, putting the kettle on and getting a mug out and fixed his tea. He sipped it as he made his way over to the couch and turned the news on. He set the tea down and went into routine of lounging on the couch to watch the news. His eyes flickered over to Sherlock and smiled when he quickly looked away, embarrassed to be caught staring. John turned back to the telly for a few minutes before screaming, "Ow, Sherlock come quick!" Sherlock lept to his feet without a second thought.

"What is it?"

John's hand flashed out and grabbed Sherlock's wrist, yanking the detective down. Sherlock fell on top of John and John wound his arms around his waist.

"John, what are you-"

"Shh, Sherlock, we're cuddling...well go on then. What has the news gotten wrong so far?"

Sherlock stared down at John incredulously and John stared back. After realizing John was being serious Sherlock relaxed in to John's arms and smiled. He nuzzled into John's neck and placed a shy kiss on the pulse point. John sighed happily and Sherlock stored that as a good sign. He kissed his way up John's neck and kissed to point directly behind John's ear.

"Well for starters the weather lady's a moron. Warm and sunny my arse. It's gonna rain all day." A sudden clap of thunder made John jump and Sherlock chuckled as John tightened his grip.

"And the cat that supposedly ran away was actually stolen by the selfish little boy next door. John smiled and let Sherlock continue whisper his corrections in his ear. The morning news ended and John loosened his grip on Sherlock.

"All right Sherlock up." Sherlock stood and watched as John stood and went upstairs. He returned a few minutes later dressed for work.

"Okay, I'm off to work. Please don't shoot, blow up, kill, destroy, or damage anything." Sherlock was glad his first dream of John cuddling had come true but he didn't want it to end. He stood by pathetically as John finished his tea and grabbed his phone.

"See you later." John walked past Sherlock and stepped out the door. At the last minute Sherlock grabbed John's wrist and yanked John back to him. John fell into Sherlock's arms and Sherlock put fingers under John's chin.

"Forget about work." He whispered, giving John a second of notice before crashing his lips to Johns.


	3. Chapter 3

Sherlock crashed his lips against John's. With no hesitation at all, John kissed back. He ran his tongue across Sherlock's bottom lip and Sherlock opened his mouth and let John's tongue slip inside. John moaned as their tongues met, tasting Earl Grey, peppermint, and _John. _John's arousal twitched as Sherlock moaned into his mouth. He never understood addicts but John was already addicted to the taste of Sherlock. Cinnamon, and a hint of tobacco. The kiss slowed and John pulled away, far to early as far as Sherlock was concerned.

"Well, good thing I already cancled my morning appointments."

Sherlock took in the triumphant glint in John's eyes and kissed him again.

"Back to the couch, then?"

"Only if I get to be on top this time." Sherlock tried to ignore the problem growing in his pants as John chuckled and pulled Sherlock over to the couch. He pushed Sherlock dowd onto the couch and crawled inbetween in his legs. John rested his head over Sherlock's heart and Sherlock's arms wrapped around his waist. They laid together in comfortable silence for nearly an hour until John stirred.

"What?"

"We're cuddling."

"Yes, _you_ initiated it."

"I know, I just can't really wrap my head around it."

"Why not?"

"Well, it's hard to believe Mr. "I'm married to my work" wants to cuddle at all, least of all with me."

Sherlock moved his body so John shifted and they were face to face.

"John, you have changed me. That day at Angelo's I was married to my work, and then you became a part of my work, and now you're slightly more important. You are the most important thing in my life. I lo-I care about you and when you're like this, in my arms I feel like I'm protecting you." John smiled down at the detective who smiled back.

"I love you too Sherlock." He pressed his lips to the detectives and melted. The kiss was slow and full of love and admiration, but of course Sherlock ruined it by opening his mouth.

"Of course you do. I could never understand why you went on all those dates when you clearly loved me."

"Ah, moments gone."

John smiled teasingly at Sherlock as he maneuvered his way up and off the couch.

"Noooo.."

"Yesss...come on, I'm hungry."

"What day is it?"

"It doesn't matter. We're eating." John walked into the kitchen and pulled out what he needed.

"Joohhnn, what are you doing?"

"Making food, that you are going to eat."

"You can't make me."

"We'll see about that." John murmured to himself.

About a half hour later John walked into the living room with two plates of pancakes.

"You're wasting food and silverware! I'm not eating."

"Yes you are."

"Why are you so sure?"

"Because I have a deal for you."

Sherlock sat up straight and watched him warily.

"Oh?"

"For every reasonable sized bite you take, I'll take something off."

"Off your body?"

"Obviously." He smirked as Sherlock watched a few moments then took a hesitant bite. John toed of his left shoe.

"A shoe?"

"Keep eating." Sherlock took another bite and John removed the other shoe.

Bite, left sock, bite, right sock, bite, watch, bite, tie, bite, shirt.

"Finally." Sherlock said when John yanked off his shirt.

"Yeah well don't get too excited, you only have one more bite."

Sherlock popped the last bite into his mouth and grinned.

"Trousers off." He ordered. John laughed and stood, he smiled teasingly at John and unbuckled his belt and pulled it free.

"You tease!"

"Shoulda taken smaller bites."

"**You** should wear fewer accessories!" John shrugged innocently. Sherlock glared the reached over, grabbed John's fork, and popped another bite into his mouth.

"That's cheating."

"You never said who's food I hade to take a bite off. Now, trousers, off."

John stood and glared, unbuttoning and unzipping his trousers then shoving them off. Sherlock broke eye contact to take in John's tight red pants and John tried to ignore the way Sherlock was staring at him like a piece of meat.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer."

"CLICK!"

"Sarcasm, Sherlock!"

John went back to eating his pancakes and with only one bite left he leaned back and sighed.

"I'm full..."

"Can I have the last bite?"

"Are you really hungry or do you just want to see me naked?"

Sherlock grinned.

"Right, well I have work soon."

John stood and stretched. Sherlock bit back a moan as John's muscles rippled and his ass tensed as John stretched. John sighed and went to work gathering up his discarded clothes. He pulled his socks and shoes on, re did his belt and put his watch back on. He reached for his shirt but only grabbed empty air.

"Sherlock do you have my shirt?"

"I'm holding it for ransom."

John didn't have time to fight, and Sherlock was holding his last clean shirt.

"Fine, what are your terms?"

"I want a kiss."

"Predictable."

"Naked, you have to kiss me, while you are naked." John stood fuming, thinking about how much his dignity meant to him.

"Any room for negotiation?"

"Hmm, either you kiss me while **you're** naked, or kiss me while **I'm** naked." John knew once Sherlock's clothes were off they'd stay off. He kicked off his shoes again.

"Now who's a tease," He asked, pulling his trousers off. "I'll have that image in my head all day." He leaned down to capture Sherlock's lips and Sherlock's hands grabbed John's ass and pulled him down to straddle him.

John moaned as he came in contact with Sherlock through his trousers. Sherlock's tongue invaded John's mouth as his hand grabbed John's dick.

"God Sherlock!...No, no, we have to stop."

"You don't want to."

"No, but I have work." John pulled back and grabbed his shirt. He re-dressed quickly.

"My earlier speech still applies. Don't damage the flat." John left the flat quickly so as not to be further detained by his incredibly sexy, persuasive, **sexy** flat mate.

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**Oooh! Long one. The laptop I usually use has a broke keyboard so it takes my forever to type up short paragraphs. But my awesome uncle let me use his computer so you got the whole chapter, much quicker. I hope you like! I had fun writing it, gave me a huge craving for pancakes tho. R&R = LOVE**


	4. Chapter 4

Sherlock sat in his chair as the fact that John had actually left for work sank in. He was naked and on top of him, moaning, and he **still** left.

Sherlock shook his head and grabbed his scarf and coat.'_Might as well go help Molly.'_ He took a cab and surprised her.

"Oh Sherlock! I didn't think you'd be coming in today. You're usually here much earlier."

" I was busy this morning." He got to work, losing himself in the dead bodies until his mind was suddenly back on John.

The way his muscles rippled as he stretched, his naked body pressed up against him the way he tasted, the sounds he made as Sherlock held him in his hand, the way he left. He **left,** _**left! **_Suddenly Sherlock was so full of sexual tension he wanted to scream.

"Molly, I need a dead body and my riding crop!"

Molly rolled a dead body into the room and Sherlock was handed his riding crop. He eyed the body distastfully and willed all his sexual tension to the surface. He raised the riding crop above his head and brought it down across the corpses back. Feeling a little better he did it again, and again, and again. He whipped the guy until he wasn't so worked up and then he threw the riding crop across the room.

"Bad day, was it?"

Sherlock grunted in response.

"Need a hug?" Molly asked, her eyes flickering over Sherlock's shoulders for a moment. Before Sherlock could snap at her two strong arms encircled his waist. Sherlock froze and locked down at the arms wrapped around him.

"John?"

"Hmm?"

"What are you _doing_?"

"No Sherlock, you don't need a hug. But you **do **want one. A John hug."

Sherlock smiled and turned in John's arms and hugged him back.

"Oh are you two together now?"

They pulled apart and Sherlock looked down at John.

"Weren't we always?" John said, his eyes never leaving Sherlock's. Sherlock smiled and John grabbed his hand.

"I'm done with work now, wanna head home?" Sherlock squeezed his hand in response and leaned over to grab his coat and scarf.

"Can you lock up please Molly?"

"Oh yes, of course."

Sherlock winked at John who chuckled as they stepped into the street.

"Aren't you going to get a cab?"

"No...I feel like walking today."

"It's **freezing!**"

"I'm not very cold, should be fine."

John gave up trying to argue and walked in Sherlock's shadow, shaking uncontrollably from the cold. When Baker Street came into view John's pace increased and he ran into the flat.

"S'Bloody freezing out there! Sherlock do you want some tea?"

Sherlock took his coat and scarf off and started unbuttoning his shirt.

"Sherlock I said do you-Why are you taking your shirt off?"

"You're cold." Sherlock replied, pulling his trousers off.

"And **how** is that relevent to your undressing?"

"You're a doctor, what's the most efficient way to warm someone up?"

"Body heat. You're taking your clothes off because you want us to cuddle so we're both warmed up?"

"Precisely. Now undress."

"Fine, but leave your pants on." John muttered, undressing for the second time that day.

"Not on the couch, my back hurts enough as it is."

Sherlock nodded and started walking upstairs, with John close behind. Stood by the door awkwardly as John stepped around. He pulled back the covers and crawled into bed.

"I know you're probably the hottest man on the planet but you can't warm me up from across the room."

Sherlock flushed slightly and crawled into bed.

John waited for Sherlock to hold him but he just laid there, flat on his back, staring at the bedroom ceiling. John chuckled and lightly pushed Sherlock so he rolled over onto his side, John wrapped his arms around him.

"Relax Sherlock." John whispered, kissing Sherlock's shoulder lightly. Sherlock shuddered and relaxed.

They stayed that way, the only sounds being made were Sherlock's shudders and gasps and John's lips on his body.

"Mmmm, I feel much warmer. How about you?"

Sherlock did feel warmer, not only had John's body heat warmed him but his lips had left a trail of fire across his body.

Sherlock rolled over onto his back so fast John fell so he was leaning over him.

Sherlock reached up and grabbed the back of John's neck and pulled his lips down to meet his own.

"Much warmer actually."

"Good, now I can punish you."

Sherlock only had time to widen his eyes before Sherlock pinned his arms above his head and handcuffed them to the headboard.

"John, what are you-"

John used a nearby tie to blindfold him.

"**What** are you _doing_?"

"I had to redo all the paperwork I did within the first hour of being at work because I had a mental image of you naked in my head."

"So you're punishing me for being irresistable?" Sherlock replied smugly, his blindfolded eyes not seeing John holding Sherlock's infamous riding crop. He did however _hear_ it slice through the air a second before it struck his chest.

He gasped then grit his teeth, refusing to cry out.

John hit him again, lighter this time, on the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. Sherlock grew with each hit and he knew in the position he was in John would notice _very_ quickly.

"Should have known you'd get off on this." John whispered, running the tip lightly across the bulge in Sherlock's pants.

"Being _punished_." He put more pressure on it and was rewarded with a shallow moan.

"Please John..."

John removed the riding crop.

"First you answer my questions. Do you really love me Sherlock?"

"Yes, unconditionally, irrevocably, you and only you."

John smiled and crawled up the bed to kiss Sherlock, while using on hand to remove the rest of his clothes.

"Do you want me to **make** love to you?"

"_Yes, _yes! Please John."

John touched him, smearing pre-cum down the shaft. He crawled down the bed to get a better angle and pumped him. He leaned forward and licked the tip. He moaned, pleasantly surprised at how **good** Sherlock tasted. He tried to remember the best blowjob he'd ever gotten and took Sherlock as deep as he could without gagging then pulled back, sucking hard.

"Oh god John, please, I want you now." John pulled back and chuckled. He reached over to his bedside table and put lubricant on his fingers.

He rubbed one finger against the puckered hole he was dying to thrust into then slid it inside, noting Sherlock's face contorting in discomfort.

"Sherlock, you _are_ a virgin, aren't you?" He asked pulling his finger out then sliding it back in.

"I've done experiments sexually but I never let anyone penetrate me, no. Until now.." John continued fingering him until he was loose enough for John to slide in a second finger, only this time Sherlock moaned. John curved his fingers and found the prostate, grinning when Sherlock's hips buck reflexively.

John alternated between hitting the prostate and scissoring, watcing Sherlock moan and shake, pulling lightly at the handcuffs. When Sherlock was stretched enough John took his fingers out, and pulled his own pants off. He grabbed the handcuff key and unlocked Sherlock's right wrist then pressed the key into his hand. As Sherlock worked to unlock his other wrist John tore open a condom and sheathed himself, moaning as he touched himself for the first time. Sherlock freed himself then tore off the blindfold, and John crawled back up the bed, hovering on all fours above the incoherent detective and they both moaned as their dicks rubbed against each other, and John leaned down to kiss him.

The kiss was all need, and lust, want, and passion and Sherlock's head spun. Which is probably why he didn't notice John moving his legs farther apart and position himself at Sherlock's entrance until the John's tip pushed against the tight ring of muscle and then pushed inside. Sherlock gasped and grit his teeth.

John moved to kiss his neck and nibble on his earlobe.

"_Relax _Sherlock, let me take you." Sherlock forced his body to relax and John kissed him slowly as he slipped further inside. Once he was completely inside he moaned, bracing himself on his arms and watching Sherlock patiently.

"Move, John." He finally said, moaning as John slowly pulled out then slid back in.

Sherlock had thought that sex with John would have been a lust filled frenzy: fast, hard, and rough. But John moved slowly, waiting for Sherlock to give him the okay to go faster. Everytime he moved he'd kiss Sherlock. His neck, his ear, his nose, his cheeks, his forehead, his **lips**, until Sherlock finally responded, throwing his head back and moaning.

"_Faster_ John!" John sped up, angling himself to hit the prostrate. Sherlock moaned, grabbing John's hand and lacing their fingers together and John moved so he could brace himself on one arm. He made love to Sherlock, he couldn't even call it _sex_ because all the sex he'd ever had couldn't even begin to compare to the way he and Sherlock moved _together_, gazing into each other's eyes, holding hands.

"Sherlock, touch yourself. I'm not gonna last much longer."

Sherlock's hand wrapped around his own aching cock just as John rammed forward and hit the prostate, hard.

"Oh god, John!" His grip on John's had tightened as he pumped himself. His eyes fluttered shut as his orgasm tore through him and John leaned forward and kissed Sherlock's neck. As Sherlock came down from his euphoric high John rammed into him as his own orgasm overtook him. He moaned Sherlock's name and collapsed. When he got his breath back he pulled out and binned his used condom.

"_Absolutely Amazing_." John whispered, kissing Sherlock. Sherlock smiled and kissed back.

"Your girlfriends are even dumber than I originally thought. You're that good in bed and they still left you? Imbecils."

"You only think that because you have nothing better to compare me to."

"I know pleasure when I feel it, John. And _you _give me _pleasure."_

John shivered as Sherlock nibbled on his earlobe.

"God Sherlock, you'll be the death of me."

"Well at least you'll die happy." Sherlock pulled back and grinned.

"Yeah, okay, you cheeky bastard."

They kissed again and John smiled as Sherlock pulled back and grabbed John's hand.

"Will you cuddle with me again, John?"

"Gladly."

They held each other in silence and drifted off to sleep.

_And Sherlock was right, he slept_ **_much_**_ better with John in his arms._

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**Reviews are LOVE. I have an epilogue coming and then that'll be that. ): But I do have another story coming up, inspired by Victoria Justice's Best Friends Brother. (; So stay tuned...(:**


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